


A Stack of Books with Legs

by orphan_account



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Alternate Universe, First Dates, First Meetings, Fluff, Librarian AU, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-25
Updated: 2014-10-25
Packaged: 2018-02-26 23:21:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2670176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Sometimes, Mr. Spock, I think I should have been a librarian."~James T. Kirk</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Stack of Books with Legs

Jim nudges his glasses back up his nose, jostling the stack of books in the process. He shifts them in his arms and sighs when his glasses slip down again. Wriggling his nose to help them into place, he tightens his grip on the books and lifts his chin to peer over them.

He makes his way slowly across the library, and he's almost to his desk when a man steps in his path. He swerves, trying to avoid a collision. The towering stack of books teeters, and although he makes a grab for them, they cascade to the carpet, each one landing with a dull thump.

"Damn," he mutters under his breath as he drops to his knees and scrambles to pick them up. A shadow falls across his face, and the man he nearly ploughed over is crouched beside him, retrieving books with long, pale fingers. "Sorry," Jim says quickly, without looking up, "I wasn't watching where I was going."

"I was at fault. If the books are damaged, I will provide recompense."

Jim looks up to find the planes of a Vulcan face, the elegant sweep of two dark eyebrows as four of the books are offered.

"Thank you." Jim smiles, sets them atop the others. "It's okay though, they're fine." He shoves his glasses up and picks himself up off the floor.

The Vulcan stands as well, and when Jim tries to bundle the books in his arms again, he lifts more than half the pile away, and says, "I will follow you."

"Uh, ok," Jim says uncertainly, but he gestures toward his desk with an elbow and the Vulcan follows. "You can just set them there."

The Vulcan does as indicated, and Jim puts his own smaller pile on top and then rubs his hands over lips as he smiles at the taller Vulcan. "Thank you," he says again. "Was there anything you needed help with? Finding something?"

"I am researching Terran literature," the Vulcan says.

"Were you interested in any particular era?" Jim asks curiously. It isn't often a Vulcan ventures into the library.

"My mother suggested I begin my studies with nineteenth century literature."

"Dickens," Jim says immediately, grinning. "You have to read Dickens. He's one of my favorite authors. I'll show you, if you want?"

"I am amenable," the Vulcan says with a slight nod.

"Great." He holds out a hand to indicate the back of the library and says as the Vulcan falls in step beside him, "My name's Jim, by the way."

"I am Spock.

"You'll love Dickens," Jim says eagerly. "We do have most of his works available for your tablet, but there's nothing like holding a book in your hand. It connects you to the author, you know? And some of them we even have the older versions. I've been looking for an original 'Tale of Two Cities' for years. That's one of his books."

"My mother also collects antique books," Spock tells him. "She too believes a connection is forged with the author while reading them."

"I think I would like your mother," Jim says with a smile. "Here we go." He waves Spock forward to examine the rows of old books. "Sometimes," he admits, "I come back here just to smell the books. There's nothing quite like the smell of paper all around you. It's inspiring."

Spock is studying him, but his eyes do not hold censure. He looks, if anything, intrigued. "Which title do you recommend?" he asks after a moment, giving his attention to the volumes.

Jim feels his face flushing. "I'd say 'Tale of Two Cities' first, of course—it's my favorite—but I checked it out yesterday, so um…" He runs his fingers along the spines, appreciating the dip of engraved lettering before settling around the binding of a dark brown one. "Great Expectations," he says as he pulls it from its mates. "It's about an orphan named Pip. I won't spoil it, but I think you'll find it interesting enough for your study of humanity." He offers it, and watches as Spock turns it over in his hands, fingers running over the title, just like Jim's did. "We can discuss it, if you want, when you're finished."

Spock looks up. "As you an expert in this particular field, I believe I would find that valuable."

"Well, I don't know about expert," Jim says, and again his face is hot, but with pleasure this time. "But I spend a lot of my free time reading. Maybe…" He shifts, pushes his glasses up with his index finger. "If you have any favorite Vulcan authors… I'd love to try one."

"Indeed," Spock says as he tucks the book carefully against his side. "I believe there are several whom you might find interesting. I will note their names if you wish."

"Sure!" Jim digs into his pocket, pulls out his personal PADD. "Go ahead."

Spock spells a name for him, adding, "She was my grandmother, and one of Vulcan's foremost philosophers."

"Really? Wow, I wish I could claim a famous author in my family tree. I'll find it tonight," he promises, already looking forward to the thought of reading something new.

"I will return in a seven days," Spock tells him. "Perhaps we might discuss both works then."

Jim tries not to sound disappointed when he agrees, having hoped they might get together sooner. "I can check it out for you," he offers, but Spock declines.

"I have other reference materials to find. Thank you for your help," he says formally.

"It was my pleasure." Before Jim can ask for his comm number, Spock inclines his head and turns away. Jim watches him go.

He reads the book Spock recommended in one night, enjoying T'Sai's works so much that he finds others—everything she's written, actually. And when Spock returns a week later-exactly, to the minute-he's eager to discuss them.

Spock has so many questions about 'Great Expectations', however, that they don't get to T'Sai. "If you are amenable to another discussion," Spock begins.

"Tomorrow?"

"I am free at eighteen hundred."

Jim grins, gives him 'A Tale of Two Cities' and hums his way through the rest of the day.

They meet twice a week for the next seven weeks, over coffee at the cafe next to the library. Coffee for Jim, anyway. A Vulcan spice tea for Spock, which Jim eventually tries and immediately loves. Spock is pleased about that.

"What?" Jim asks, smiling. "It's delicious."

"Humans are usually displeased by its flavor," Spock tells him. "My mother enjoys it as well."

Jim blows across the top of his mug. "Sounds like we have a lot in common. I'd love to meet her."

"I will arrange a meeting during her next visit," Spock tells him solemnly, and Jim smiles into the steam. "I believe she intends to see me on the anniversary of my birth."

Jim licks the spice from his lips. "Vulcans celebrate birthdays?"

"Negative." Spock's sips are delicate, precise. He doesn't lick his lips. "She insists upon it, however."

"Birthdays are important to humans. Mine is coming up in two weeks."

"Indeed?"

"March twenty-second," Jim says with a smile.

"My mother enjoys a Terran dish called 'cake and ice cream'," Spock tells him, and it's impossible not to grin at him. He's adorable. "Do you partake in this tradition as well?"

"Sometimes," Jim says. "Or just drinks with friends." He didn't mean to make a hint, but Spock nods.

"I am amenable."

Jim smiles at him, sips at his coffee. "Sounds perfect."

Two weeks later, Spock arrives at the cafe with a rectangular parcel in his hands. It's wrapped in gold paper and tied neatly with a perfect black bow. "I believe the appropriate expression is, 'Happy Birthday, Jim," he says as he offers the gift. His eyes are shining and Jim's stomach dances as he realizes it's anticipation.

"Thank you," he says, smiling shyly. He ducks his head and pulls the bow free. He peels away the paper carefully and when he sees what's inside, his breath catches. His eyes fly up, and his heart jumps. Spock is watching him carefully, as if holding his own breath.

Words are stuck in Jim's throat, so he shakes his head minutely and returns his attention to the book, the book he's spent years saving up for. "How did you find this?" he asks, his voice coming out too breathless.

"My mother's uncle owns an antique store," Spock tells him quietly. Jim lifts his head. "He was able to locate it."

"Spock…" Jim's fingers curl at the edges of the cover, trying to still the urge to leap at Spock and wrap his arms around him. "This is… it's perfect. Thank you so much. I can't believe you did this…"

"It was no hardship."

Jim pulls the book to his chest, blinking several times and just grinning. "Thank you. Seriously, Spock, this is…" He shakes his head. "I might have to disappear for several days just to bask in this. It's so old," he marvels, pulling the book out again so that he can caress its soft leather.

"You are welcome," Spock assures him. "I would, however, rather you did not disappear entirely."

Jim smiles across the table at him. "No. Why's that?"

"My mother arrives in two days, and has expressed a desire to meet you."

"Your mom's coming? You said she was coming for your birthday…" At the uptick of Spock's eyebrows, Jim grins. "Is it your birthday soon?"

"In four days."

"Four days… the twenty-sixth?" Jim calculates, wrinkling his nose in thought. "March is a great month, isn't it?"

"I accept your assessment."

Jim laughs. "Good. And yes, I'd love to meet your mother. You uh… told her about me?"

"I informed her that you are sharing your knowledge of Terran literature with me."

"Oh." Jim tries not to frown.

"She inquired as to the nature of our relationship," Spock continues. He pauses while heat rises in Jim's cheeks. "I am uncertain what to tell her."

Jim glances down at his beautiful book, fingers spread over the cover. When he lifts his eyes, he says, "Some people might think a gift like this means you have romantic intentions."

Spock's eyebrow rises, and there is amusement beneath the query, "Will you be alarmed if I confirm that I do?"

Startled laughter meets the question. "Really?" Jim asks, unable to stop the grin that's taking over. "I mean, no." He laughs again. "Of course not."

"Then my gift has been successful?"

It's amazing to Jim how pleased Spock can look with only his eyes. It makes him grin. "Very successful."


End file.
